Stunning

9 HELL HATH NO FURY LIKE A RICH LADY SCORNED

As Mr. Marin took the stage at the town hall meeting, beaming at his adoring crowd, Spencer banged through the back doors of the banquet room into a small parking lot. Only a few spaces were occupied, taken by beat-up pickup trucks and compact cars. At the back of the lot, next to a green Dumpster stuffed with empty cardboard boxes, Emily hopped from foot to foot as if her sweater dress was on fire.

The door opened again, and Aria and Hanna stepped outside. They were both holding their phones and looking confused. Just moments ago, Emily had sent all of them a cryptic text saying they needed to talk and to meet her here. Spencer had texted back asking if they could talk inside—it was cold out—but Emily had written back NO!

“Em?” Aria called out, walking down the rickety metal steps. “Are you okay?”

“My dad’s going to wonder where I am.” Hanna held the railing tight, cautious in her high heels. “What’s going on?”

Emily thrust her phone toward them when they were close. “I just got this.”

The girls read the note on the screen. Spencer’s stomach flipped as she took in the words. “Wait. A knows about the baby?”

Emily nodded, looking terrified.

“But how is that possible? And why didn’t A mention it before?” Spencer asked. She still couldn’t believe Emily had had a baby. Before school was dismissed last year, Emily had looked—and seemed—so normal, like nothing was bothering her at all. But halfway through July, shortly after Spencer’s run-in with the police for possession of Easy A, Emily had called Spencer in a panic, saying she was pregnant. At first, Spencer had thought it was a joke. Not a very funny one, either.

“I don’t know,” Emily answered, tears in her eyes. “Maybe because A knows everything. Has anyone else gotten a note?”

Spencer shakily raised her hand. “Actually, I did. Last night. I was going to tell you tonight.”

She pulled up the text on her phone, and the others gathered around.

Think your college friends would let you into their Eating Club if they knew about your appetite for murder?

Just reading it again made Spencer’s heart gallop. She’d barely slept a wink last night, running over the possibilities of who A might be.

“How could A know about Tabitha and the baby?” Emily whispered.

Hanna exhaled sharply, her breath visible in the frigid air. “The same way A knows everything.”

“Plenty of people saw you.” Spencer shivered in the thin blazer she’d chosen to wear. “You were in Philly all summer. A could have been, too. Maybe that’s how A knew about me and Kelsey.”

Emily paced up and down a faded yellow line demarcating a parking space. “You know how big I got. I didn’t look like the girl on that People cover. But I suppose someone could have figured it out.” She arched her back and stared at the spindly tree branches above their heads.

“This isn’t just any random someone,” Aria pointed out. “It’s a person who’s out to get us. Someone we wronged. Someone who wants revenge.”

“But who?” Hanna cried.

Emily stopped pacing. “You all know who I think A is.”

Spencer groaned. “Don’t say Ali, Em.”

“Why not?” Emily’s voice cracked. “She and Tabitha were at the Preserve together. Ali could’ve found out we killed Tabitha. Maybe she wants revenge for that, on top of everything else we did to her.”

Spencer sighed. She couldn’t believe Emily was still on this Ali-is-alive mission. “So Ali and Tabitha were at the Preserve at the same time. That doesn’t prove anything. And for the last time, Ali’s bones weren’t found in the rubble, but we all saw her in the house just before it blew up.”

A shadow passed over Emily’s face. “It’s just, who other than Ali would know to follow us around everywhere, track our every move?” she said, staring at her feet. “And you guys aren’t going to believe who’s here—Gayle. What if A is planning to tell her what I did with the baby? And what if Gayle tells everyone about me?”

“Wait a minute.” Hanna furrowed her brow. “Gayle, the woman who wanted the baby, is inside?”

Emily nodded. “It was the woman your dad introduced me to. Ms. Riggs.”

“So that’s why she called you Heather.” Hanna shut her eyes. “Gayle is promising my dad a lot of money for his campaign.”

“Well, isn’t that a lovely coincidence,” Spencer said sarcastically.

Aria cleared her throat. “Maybe it’s not a coincidence at all.”

Everyone looked at her. Aria turned to Emily. “Let me get this straight, Em. You just saw the woman you promised a baby to, the woman you screwed over in the end. Right?”

“I had to screw her over,” Emily interrupted, a tormented look on her face. “I had to do what was right for the baby!”

“I know, I know.” Aria waved her hands impatiently. “Just go with me, okay? You were worried sick about Gayle tracking you down, though. And you said Gayle was crazy. Isn’t that why you didn’t want to give the baby to her?”

Emily wrinkled her nose. “I don’t see what you’re getting at.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Aria exclaimed. “You saw Gayle inside. And then, seconds later, you got a note from A about the baby. Gayle is A! Maybe she figured out what you did—what we all did! And now she wants to get revenge on all of us for helping you take her baby away!”

Emily squinted. “That makes no sense. How could Gayle know about Spencer’s drug problem? How could she know about what happened in Jamaica?”

“Maybe she has a connection to Penn and Jamaica,” Aria said. “She’s really rich. Maybe she hired a PI. You never know.”

“But what does she want from us?” Hanna asked.

Everyone thought for a moment. “Maybe she wants to know where the baby is,” Aria suggested.

“Or maybe Gayle just wants to hurt you like you hurt her,” Spencer said with a shiver. “Remember those messages she left on your voicemail, Em? She sounded crazy.” She shut her eyes and recalled the woman’s grating voice coming through the tiny cell phone speaker. I’m going to find you, the last voicemail had said. I’m going to hunt you and that baby down, and then you’ll be sorry.

Inside, Tom Marin’s voice boomed through the microphone. Hanna cast a glance at the door. “What did you mean when you said Gayle being my dad’s biggest donor might not be a coincidence, Aria?”

“Think about it.” Aria fiddled with one of her feather earrings. “If Gayle is A, maybe she got involved with your dad’s campaign to get closer to you. Maybe it’s part of her master plan.”

Hanna squeezed her eyes shut. “My dad said that her funds are crucial to the campaign, though. If she withheld them for any reason, he might not have the money to air his commercials throughout the state.”

“Maybe that’s part of A’s master plan, too,” Spencer said somberly.

“Guys, do you hear yourselves?” Emily looked annoyed. “There’s no way Gayle is A. Yeah, it’s awful that I ran into her. And yeah, I don’t know what I’m going to do now that she’s seen me. But we have to think about A getting to Gayle, not A being Gayle.”

“I think we need more facts,” Spencer said. “Maybe there’s a way we could prove if Gayle is or isn’t A. If she’s your dad’s biggest donor, Hanna, maybe you could snoop around a little?”

“Me?” Hanna pressed her hand to her chest. “Why do I have to do it?”

They were suddenly interrupted by a loud creak. The back door opened, and Kate stuck her head out. “There you are,” she said, sounding more relieved than annoyed. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Dad wants us on the stage with him.”

“Got it.” Hanna moved toward the door. She glanced over her shoulder at the others, indicating that they should follow. Aria and Spencer fell in line, but Emily stayed where she was. I’m not going back inside, her stubborn expression said. Not with Gayle there.

Spencer gave Emily an apologetic wave before ducking back into the banquet hall. The room was even more crowded than before—every seat was filled. Mr. Marin stood on the stage, answering questions and flashing his politician’s smile. Spencer caught Hanna’s arm before she joined her father. “Which one is Gayle, anyway?”

Hanna pointed to a woman in a red skirt suit in the front row. “Her.”

Spencer gazed at the woman, assessing her blond hair, thin face, and the enormous diamonds on her fingers. All of a sudden, something clicked. The cake tasting. Gayle had been a few tables over, wearing a Chanel suit. Spencer had felt the woman’s gaze on her back, but had shaken off Gayle’s weird, smug expression, telling herself she was just being paranoid.

But maybe she wasn’t. Maybe Gayle had been watching her. Because maybe, just maybe, Gayle was A.